Merlyn's League
by Dark Empress V
Summary: Malcolm is the new Ra's Al Ghul. Here is my version of what happens after season 3! For all Malcolm and Oliver fans!
1. A Kingdom of Isolation

Merlyn's League

Episode One: A Kingdom of Isolation

Author's note: This is what I envision happens after the season 3 finale of Arrow. I intended for this to be a one-shot, but, as usual, during the process of creation, my brain came up with a different idea… So, this will either become a chaptered story, or a series of one-shot snippets.

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Malcolm had to admit his life as the new Ra's Al Ghul reminded him somewhat of the one he had lived as Malcolm Merlyn, the businessman, only transferred back in time to an era where people knelt before their superiors, and the punishment for failure was the loss of a body part or death.

He had tasted the life of a fugitive, and while that had garnered him some very useful skills, it was not a lifestyle he preferred. The lifestyle he preferred had been torn away from him decades ago, when Rebecca had died. It appeared that life was never to be his again, no matter how hard he had tried to regain it for himself and Tommy. He had lost Tommy forever in the process. In the earthquake he had arranged himself. He refused to think about it; it hurt too much. On the other hand, maybe he should think about it - just as he should think of failing to come to the rescue of Rebecca that night… He did think of it again and again... As a form of self-punishment? Maybe. He deserved it. He had killed his son, and, in a way, his wife. How could he live with that? By becoming Ra's Al Ghul. A new page had been turned. Or had it? Malcolm Merlyn, the leader of the League of Assassins, do you deserve it? Do you?! _Do you?!_ Only the future would show.

The relief of his present situation was that he was once again respected. Revered, even. No longer a shadow, slithering through dark corridors, but a figure that walked proudly and found obeisance instead of contempt and resentment.

Oliver Queen had handed him the Ring. Ra's Al Ghul's Ring. Malcolm Merlyn was now the King of Kings.

The problem was, the people who gave him all those desired feelings were not the people he cared to receive them from. They were his warriors, men and women in awe of his cunning and power. Some of them thought he truly was "The Magician" after having defied death so many times without the use of the Lazarus Pit waters.

From those whose respect, trust and love he craved, he was now separated. Unwelcome in their midst, because contempt, resentment and hate still awaited him there, even if he had negotiated a truce with them. John Diggle. Felicity Smoak. Laurel Lance. Oliver Queen, whom he still thought of as a son. A son who did not want him as a father. Like Tommy. Like Thea, who cursed the day she'd learned she was his daughter.

Malcolm made an effort to dismiss these thoughts and tried to focus on the present - on his new role as Ra's Al Ghul. God, he HATED the name. Then again, it granted that he would be obeyed.

After all, gaining the _title_ of Ra's Al Ghul had been his main aim for some time now.

Yes, he only bore this _title_ \- that was the way Malcolm called it in his head - he would never accept it inwardly as his _name_ \- his _name_ was Malcolm Merlyn. He could never, in his heart, accept the name of the man who had almost succeeded in killing his daughter and his son… Malcolm smiled when he realized he though of Oliver this way. Calling him his son in his mind felt so natural that he now did it automatically.

This new Ra's had become quiet and distant in recent days in the eyes of his minions, who were still adjusting to the change in leadership. Whispers of speculation and gossip echoed in the endless maze of the fortress' corridors, especially after the League's Chief Priestess proclaimed this very morning that Nyssa Al Ghul, wife to the former Ra's Al Ghul - Al Sahim - was by League law now the wife of his successor - Al Saher.

Malcolm tried to wrap his mind around it.

Nyssa.

Was.

His

Wife.

Wife!

The only word Malcolm associated with "wife" was "Rebecca".

Then he thought of what nightmare Nyssa must be going through.

He knew she did not choose any part of this, just as she had not chosen to marry Oliver. And now she was in an even worse situation. Malcolm cringed inwardly at the thought of how she must be suffering. After being forced into marriage with someone she did not love, she was now handed down like cattle to a man who she had every right to hate, because he had killed her Beloved, her Sara. Malcolm cringed again.

Evening was slowly falling upon the Nanda Parbat fortress.

Malcolm took a long, relaxing bath with scented oils. The magical waters washed over his skin, removing old scars and sending waves of mysterious, humming energy through his body. He let the servants fawn over him a bit, as was expected of "Ra's". Once he got dressed, he allowed one of the serving girls to put on his formal robe. She was a pretty brunette and not overbearing, like the rest.

He dismissed the servants, his mind and body begging for some much needed sleep. Sleep that was not to be given to him, he thought, as Nyssa Al Ghul marched in, dressed in her full bedroom regalia, daggers surely hidden in the sleeves of her elaborate sleeping gown. She stood before him, surrounded by her serving maids and bodyguards, with that defiant, stubborn look on her face that failed to mask the pain and grief she was going through.

She did not give Malcolm time to speak, but suddenly knelt before him, even though he had not commanded it. A reminder of their earlier encounter and his order to her when he had first proclaimed his ascension to the title of Ra's.

"Nyssa, what are you doing here?" Malcolm asked, trying to sound commanding.

"Why, our Priestess has declared I am your wife - a part of your inheritance, like the cattle, goats, horses, and all the other possessions that are now at your command," Nyssa said in a steely tone, but her eyes, directed at the floor, showed a myriad of emotions. Her voice took on a deeper hue as she swallowed and continued. "I am here to fulfill my spousal duty to you, the new Ra's Al Ghul." She painfully choked out the words, then took a deep breath…"Al Saher, now Head of the Demon. Shall I remain kneeling?" Tears were flowing freely down her face now, but despite the humiliating position, her posture remained straight and proud. Malcolm could not bear to see her like this any longer, so he reached out and pulled her up.

"Leave us," he commanded everyone in the room. "Make sure no one disturbs us this night." The servants bowed and filed out of the room, except for one of his most trusted League warriors who'd used to train with him. "Stay on guard and proceed exactly as I ordered." Malcolm said with a pointed look. The man nodded in understanding, his unwavering loyalty earning Malcolm's appreciation yet again, and exited the room to fulfill his instructions.

Now came the time for yet another difficult conversation and Malcolm had a secret to reveal that was not going to be believed. Luckily, he was prepared for this one and had convincing proof. Thank God for his decision to cooperate with someone who actually carried some trust with people.

"Nyssa."

"Yes, my master? What will you have me do?" The biting irony in her tone could have cut steel.

"Nyssa, stop this... What your father started…" He came up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She threw them off, the grimace on her face showing only how much she despised him.

"So yes, now you will try to calm me down with soothing words to make me obedient and honour this ancient 'tradition.' Then you will ask me to betray the only one I truly loved in this life!"

Malcolm's temper took the better of him. "Damn it, Nyssa, will you just listen?!"

"Al-Saher, there is NOTHING you can say that will make me listen! Oliver Queen killed my father, and rightfully so! Now you weaseled your way in to become his successor, and I am forced to be your wife! I WILL NOT 'LISTEN' TO YOU!"

Malcolm took a deep breath. A very deep breath. He sighed and looked her in the eyes, with a soft expression. "Nyssa….do you remember the first time we met?" he asked, hoping she would.

The question surprised her. "Yes, so what?" she said in a defiant voice, not even caring to recall that moment. Then flooding memories overcame her anger.

She was maybe 10...11? Training to be a killer, getting no love from her father, only demands that she obey and fulfill his requests.

Then that strange man had arrived, wearing this black leather jacket. She had been training at the moment, trying to impress Ra's, and she had felt annoyed because the man's arrival disturbed her practice. She remembered she'd threatened to kill him then. In response, he'd squatted down in front of her and showed her a simple coin trick. It had seemed like magic. She was so amazed by it. She called him Al-Saher - the Magician.

A child's awe, she realized years later. But then, before she even knew his real name - Malcolm Merlyn - she had called him that: the Magician. He was so kind, so warm, and he smiled. She was not used to such behavior. Nobody smiled in Nanda Parbat, ever.

"I remember," Nyssa said to Malcolm, her voice quiet.

She also remembered the time, during his training, when he stopped smiling. When he became cold, like Ra's taught him to be.

"You are no longer that man," she said, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"I am not, Nyssa." Malcolm admitted sadly. "And you are no longer that girl," he added.

Nyssa loked at him, standing before her in his Ra's Al Ghul robes. But she did not see Ra's Al Ghul. She saw the very opposite of her father. For the first time in years, she instead saw the man he used to be, in that leather jacket, the man who had shown her that coin trick. His eyes were different than her father's had been. They were bright blue, like the ice outside, and yet, they had a warmth within them.

"Malcolm," she said, her anger forgotten for a moment, and then added, smiling softly: "Al-Saher...the Magician."

Malcolm blinked in surprise at hearing her call him by his true name, then smiled back.

"So you remember."

"I shouldn't." Nyssa's gaze turned back to steel within seconds. "You killed my Beloved. The man I met then is gone, and you are a monster!" She turned away after throwing him a hateful look.

Silence reigned for a while, then she heard Malcolm calling somebody on his phone. The conversation was too quiet for her to make out any of the words.

Probably summoning one of his associates to help him get rid of her discreetly, since she refused to obey him.

"Nyssa," Malcolm called out suddenly, and the soft, pleading tone of his voice made her turn back to face him.

"What now?" she demanded petulantly, but curiosity took the better of her.

"I want you to realise… This situation is far from ideal for me either, I…" he paused, searching for words. His gaze grew distant and his voice had an eerie ring to it when he spoke again. "As you know, I lost my wife many years ago. I have never let her go, though, nor do I wish to."

Nyssa was taken aback when he suddenly shifted his gaze and their eyes met. So much pain was reflected in these two deep pools of blue looking back at her; she did not know how he managed to keep the flood behind them at bay. She realized he was not much different than her. He had lost his Beloved too, she thought, and when that happened, he became someone who was ready to butcher the whole world in order to avenge her.

"I can release you, Nyssa, if you wish me to." he added quietly, now staring earnestly at her, searching her features for a reaction. "I am Ra's Al Ghul after all, and no matter what the High Priestess has said, my word is still above hers."

Nyssa's mind went spinning. Was Malcolm Merlyn actually offering her… freedom? Freedom to do as she pleased, go wherever she wanted, no League assassins follonwig with orders to kill her? Well, he was now the Head of the Demon, bearing a title that was meant to be hers, so he could afford to be magnanimous, a sarcastic voice inside her said.

But had she ever really wanted that title? Deep down inside, Nyssa already knew the answer to that question. She'd been trained and conditioned to become her father's successor, taught to take pride in it, desire it. But she'd only discovered what she really wanted in her heart of hearts when she'd met Sara. Heard her laugh. Touched her hand. Lay down next to her and listened to her even breath.

All of this had been torn away from her, time and time again. First by Sara leaving, then by her murder at the whim of the very man who now stood before her, looking so concerned. Nyssa wanted to shoot some spiteful response at him, but she found she no longer had the strength to do it.

"Free me…" she started, in a surprisingly weak voice. Even if she was free, what would she do? Sara had told her about all the amazing places they could see together and she remembered imagining how wonderful it would be.

"Free me… what for? Everything is pointless anyway." Her shoulders slumped and she stared numbly at the floor. Even if she was free to go wherever she wanted, without Sara everything would be hollow. Meaningless. Al-Saher might just as well execute her on the spot.

She sensed him shifting uneasily, and as she looked up, she saw him looking expectantly at the chamber door. Was he so impatient to get rid of her?

Finally, they heard a soft knock.

"Enter" Merlyn called out firmly.

The door opened and the figure that walked in made Nyssa think she must be hallucinating.

It was Sara.

She could do nothing but stare as the woman approached her.

"Darling," Sara said in Arabic, echoing the greeting they had exchanged so many times before.

Nyssa took in the familiar features, the smile that she knew so well… But this could not be. She stood frozen like a statue, unable to choke out a word, her mind swirling.

Then suddenly Sara closed the distance between them and hugged her tightly, letting out a sigh of contentment. "It's really me, baby, I'm here."

Nyssa gave into the embrace, letting her senses take over. Sara's familiar perfume and oh, so familiar caresses convinced her it was really her beloved.

"How? How is this possible, love?" she choked out as they finally broke the embrace and stood facing each other. "I thought… There was proof he killed you. Made his daughter kill you." Nyssa gestured at Malcolm, throwing him a hateful look. "Oliver Queen and your own sister saw the body. They buried you. I was at your grave..."

Sara turned to look at Malcolm and he nodded.

"Darling…" She began, taking Nyssa's hand. "Let me explain everything to you. I had to escape the League. Your father sent me to Starling City to take pictures to prove that Malcolm was there again. I became suspicious at once. He knew Al-Saher was there - what did he need pictures for?"

Nyssa let out a cry of anger. "So I was right all along! My father sent you to Starling hoping Al-Saher would kill you, because Ra's always disapproved of our love!" Nyssa was so furious she was not able to call the man her father any longer.

"Yes, love. I contacted Al-Saher and told him of Ra's' plans. He agreed to help me fake my death."

"But how did you do this? Oliver and his team examined your body, and they were sure it was you. That Felicity woman, the hacker, did a 'digital' autopsy on you, or whatever it's called."

"It's a complicated story. After I contacted Malcolm and he agreed to help me, we found a single mother with no other family to speak of, looking very much like me, who was in the first stages of terminal cancer. There was no chance for her to survive. All she had was her little girl and no way of providing for her after she'd be gone or when she started to suffer the horrors of her disease." Sara's eyes welled up with tears as she once again considered the dilemma and pain the woman must have gone through.

"She was the same age, same height, same build as me. She agreed to have a set of plastic surgeries to look _exactly_ like me, including the scars on my body. She was going to die a very painful death otherwise, so she agreed to this instead in exchange for Al-Saher giving her the funds that would provide her little daughter with the life of a princess." Sara threw Malcolm a half-smile. She knew he had kept his end of the deal. She had checked that herself.

"But why would he do it? The photos proving he was alive were already at your apartment, even after you disappeared."

"Nyssa… Your father did not rely on the sole possibilty that Al-Saher would kill me. He had assassins in place in case Malcolm didn't finish me off. I found out and that is why I reached out to Al-Saher. He was the only one with the means to help me survive."

"Still, why would he care enough to help you?"

Sara threw Malcolm a look, half angry, half grateful.

"For quite convoluted reasons of his own. What happened to Oliver and Thea in the process were part of a very elaborate plan. When I contacted him, he was a fugitive, both from the League and the law. By helping me, he saved his own life as well as mine. And look at him now: he is the new Ra's Al Ghul, one of the most powerful people on the planet."

"Figures. 'The Magician' at his very best." Nyssa said. "I still need to have a few words with him alone, love. Will you wait for me?"

"Of course," Sara moved to the door. "And hey, don't be too hard on him. He's shown me kindness when I thought I was a goner. I believe a good heart still beats somewhere underneath all those lies and manipulation." With that, she quietly exited the chamber.

"So…" Nyssa turned to Malcolm, but instead of being faced with the angry fit from hell he was expecting, he found himself almost passing out from shock when she approached him and gently put her hand on his forearm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He answered quietly after a beat, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat and continued,

"I meant what I said earlier, Nyssa. I can formally release you from being my wife, so you can be with Sara and do whatever you please, with no threat from me or the League. You would also be protected from interference by any other party; I can make sure of it."

He lifted his gaze to meet hers and was surprised to see concern reflected there.

"I would very much like that, and I believe you, now." Nyssa said, her hand still resting on his forearm. "Although… I still don't understand… You… you've let everyone hate you by making them believe Sara's death was your doing… Now that my father is no longer a threat, why do you not reveal that she is alive to those closest to her, who are still in mourning, as I was, just moments ago?"

Malcolm's hand squeezed hers briefly before he removed it gently from his forearm.

"Because it is Sara's truth to tell, Nyssa, not mine," He said earnestly. "And as to everyone hating me… Most of them did anyway, even before I added Sara's murder to the list of my crimes." The corners of his lips turned up in a wry smile, but the look in his eyes was so haunted that whatever Nyssa intended to say next died on her lips.

She'd been wrong on both counts today: no, Al-Saher was no longer the man who had shown her that coin trick, but he was also not the monster she had believed him to be until a few minutes ago. He had become… Someone else. Something else.

"Well now, Nyssa, if I have answered all the questions you have for me today, I don't think you should keep Sara waiting any longer," he said, his smile growing wider as she observed his eyes shifting away from whatever haunted him to return to the present moment.

"I shall make arrangements for your release ritual tomorrow. Ahmid will take you to your Beloved now." He opened the door and beckoned the guard to lead her to the chamber where Sara was staying. "Goodnight, Nyssa."

"Goodnight." Nyssa answered in Arabic, and reached out to squeeze Malcolm's forearm once again before she left.

He stared after her for a few moments and then moved to his inner chamber. He paced the length of it several times, not quite sure what to do with himself. He felt too awake to go to bed yet, but there was no one he could talk to at this dusky hour. He poured himself some wine from the caraffe on the table and sipped it slowly, staring at the crackling flames of the bedroom fireplace. Suddenly, he felt like a lion locked up in a cage. There was something tearing him apart from within, a longing, a desperate need to…

He heard Ahmid return to his post at the door and he pushed it open, entwining his hands behind his back to stop them from shaking as he adressed his warrior. "I am going out for a walk on the grounds," his well-trained voice informed the man dispassionately. "Make sure no one enters this chamber, and if anyone should ask, I am inside, not to be disturbed. Is Zahir going to stand guard with you tonight?"

"Yes, master."

"Very well. Bring him up to date on all my orders."

Ahmid nodded and stepped back to his position by the door.

Malcolm traversed Nanda Parbat's dark corridors and made his way to one of the fortress' secret exists. He did not have to hide anymore, but today he felt like sneaking out, if only for the pure sake of commemorating the past.

The cold wind welcomed him outside and he plunged tirelessly into it as he embarked upon this much needed walk. He did not have a direction in mind. He just let his feet carry him wherever the path would lead. As it turned out, it brought him to the place where he and Oliver had had their conversation by the fire the one night after Malcolm had infiltrated the League.

He sat down in the same place he had occupied while talking to Oliver. Only one person was missing.

He instinctively reached into his pocket for his phone, but then realized he had left it in his chamber after calling Sara. What would he have said if he'd called Oliver now anyway? "So, I feel lonely and just needed to hear your voice"? That was the God-honest truth and yet again, Malcolm could not say it. He remembered his last conversation with Oliver in Thea's loft in Starling. He'd allowed his heart to speak back then.

" _I always looked at you as a son, Oliver. And I'm glad we got to work together, to trust as we did," he'd said after Oliver gave him the Ring. He'd wished to hold the boy's hand longer, in a real handshake, but Oliver had withdrawn quickly, as if Malcolm's touch burned him._

" _I will never forgive you for what you did to Sara... My sister… Ever." Malcolm's soul screamed in agony then, wishing he could tell Oliver the full truth about Sara… About everything. He knew that wouldn't grant him forgiveness, but at least… At least this one sin would be wiped from his list in Oliver's eyes. And yet, all he could do was keep his mouth shut and let the hate that radiated from the boy wash over him. He schooled his features not to show any emotion, but his heart was beating a hundred miles per minute when he asked the next question._

" _Does that mean we're enemies once more?" He was surprised at how calm his own voice sounded in the face of the storm of emotions swirling inside._

" _That depends what you do with your end of the bargain," Oliver repied coldly and turned away. Malcolm made no move to stop him. His mind was full of promises he wanted to whisper to Oliver right then and there… How he would use his new position as Ra's Al Ghul to make a change, make a difference in the world. To use this power for good and right his wrongs. But he knew Oliver was not ready to listen. It was time for Malcolm to do and not just talk. However much he needed the support from his 'adopted' son, he would have to do it all on his own. Prove himself, and then reunite with Oliver after the boy had seen everything Malcolm had accomplished. After he'd kept up his end of the bargain._

Nanda Parbat was cold when nighttime came.

So he sat alone by the moonlight, not caring to light the fire.

It seemed as if hours went by… He felt his spirit screaming inside, trying to break free, and finally, in this desolate place, he let it roam. It was so cold. A storm was coming. Malcolm welcomed the swirling dance of snowflakes around him. He welcomed it all and let go of everything else.

Hours seemed to go by. He suddenly felt the touch of a hand on his arm. He turned and saw… Rebecca. Her palm was cold, but all he felt was warmth.

"Love." Her voice echoed eerily through the landscape around them.

"Love," he said back, standing up and embracing his wife as the immortal energies coursed through both of them and he gasped in surpise as he saw his body lying next to where he stood. He knew he coud return to it anytime he wanted. It was just a shell .Tears poured freely from Malcolm's eyes as he held his Beloved for the first time in… too many years to count. "Love, you are here." He breathed in her familiar scent; her caresses made him feel home, wherever he was. "Never leave me, darling," He pleaded in a whisper.

"I am here to stay, love. Forever," she said, and his heart needed to hear only this.

He was never going to be alone again. Malcolm merged with his body once more and stood up.

He turned towards his warm, new home in Nanda Parbat.

As he walked, he felt Rebecca walking alongside him. He knew that inside his fortress, he would meet two happy women in love. And now he had his own beloved, walking by his side, even if she was invisible to the rest of the world.

The cold never bothered him anyway.


	2. The New Regime

Merlyn's League

Episode Two: The New Regime

Disclaimer: All rights belong to the creators of "Arrow" and the lyrics to Within Temptation.

Author's note: So here is the long awaited episode 2 of Merlyn's League. Lots of changes are happening in the League under Malcolm's rule. I actually planned it to be published on the same day as episode 1 of Arrow season 4, but I had to polish stuff. You are welcome to make remarks on typos, spelling, etc. And I welcome all of your comments! I LIVE for comments. Chapter 3 in the works!

HUGE thanks and hugs to my beyond awesome Beta, Bloodsong, who has helped me with it every step of the way!

I've decided to add a quote from a song at the beginning, as I occassionally do. It is fitting.

' _The Whole World Is Watching' by Within Temptation_

 _And I know you wish for more,_

 _And I know you try._

 _And I hope you realize,_

 _You know the time is right._

 _The whole world is watching_

 _When you rise._

 _The whole world is beating_

 _For you right now._

 _Your whole life is flashing_

 _For your eyes._

 _It's all in this moment that changes all._

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Malcolm woke up as the sunrise illuminated Nanda Parbat. Rebecca was by his side, invisible to everyone else. He'd returned from his walk the previous night and Ahmid hadn't seen her, as he shouldn't have. Malcolm stared at his love, taking in her features. He watched as she woke up slowly and opened her eyes. He'd waited decades for this. "So immortal ghosts sleep?" he asked jokingly as he got up and was awarded with her pearly laugh.

"Yes, they do, do you mind?" she asked him playfully.

He leaned down to kiss her. "Never. But know that while you sleep, I will miss you."

Rebecca dragged him back to bed. They stayed that way until there was no more time to spare. Malcolm rose, glancing at his love before he walked out of the inner chamber and asked his guards if Sara and Nyssa were awake yet.

Ahmid brought Nyssa to his door soon afterwards. "So, my release ritual is today, if you are a man of your word, Al-Saher," Nyssa said in a firm voice, some mistrust still tinging it.

"Yes, Nyssa." He touched her arm briefly to calm her down. "An hour from now. It's all arranged, like I said," Malcolm confirmed and they both nodded.

He went back to his room to put on his formal robes. He turned and Rebecca was there. They kissed tenderly. "It's a big day for you, my love," she said, echoing the words she had spoken so many times before, decades ago, when they'd been Rebecca and Malcolm Merlyn, the power couple, ready to take on Starling City.

"And I finally have you with me, again." He hugged her passionately, then parted from her with reluctance to take care of the ritual.

He traversed the corridors, Ahmid and Zahir at his side as he made his way to the ritual chamber. Nyssa, Sara, and the League Priestess waited there for him amidst his warriors. They all knelt as he entered. He walked the length of the chamber slowly, then turned to look down at the crowd below. He nodded to the Priestess to indicate he was ready to begin. She rose and approached the dais he stood upon, respect painted on her face.

"Ra's Al Ghul," she intoned formally. "Do you hereby release Nyssa Al Ghul from any obligation to you as wife, and to the League of Assassins, should she choose so?"

Nyssa stared at the floor as she knelt before him, Sara kneeling close behind.

"I hereby proclaim, Nyssa Al Ghul is free from her obligation as my wife, free to stay or go where she pleases, whenever she wants to, as is Ta-er al-Safar - Sara Lance, her Beloved." He approached the women and pulled them up from their kneeling position, as the ritual dictated. The three of them shared a brief, informal smile.

"So shall it be," the Priestess proclaimed. Malcolm made a gesture with his hand indicating the rest of the people could rise. "Let us feast now, to celebrate our Master's benevolence," she continued.

The people slowly filed out of the room as the Priestess bowed to Malcolm and he nodded back, giving her permission to take them to the dining chamber.

Sara stayed behind and approached Malcolm, while Nyssa waited by the door.

"Thank you," she said, shaking his hand. She didn't let go. "Malcolm… I wanted to tell you...I am ready." He looked up at her with surprise. "To let Oliver and my sister, and everyone else know I'm alive. You won't have to bear a sin you haven't commited any longer."

Malcolm took a deep breath before he spoke. " Are… are you sure?"

"Yes I am. I would never be able to happily live the life I so much look forward to, knowing my family still suffered from this lie," she said with a sombre expression. "I wanted to consult with you on this, because it means Thea will learn the truth as well… How we _both_ lied to her."

Malcolm gazed at the floor, looking haunted. "It is not your fault, Sara… I have... I have brought this upon myself. I've chosen to use your ordeal as a means to an end, and my daughter became…" His voice broke for a moment. "She became collateral damage in my quest. Yes, do tell everyone. I don't expect her to forgive me. Nor should she."

"But you did all of this to save her!" Sara said, grabbing his hand again. This made Nyssa approach them with concern in her eyes.

"Is everything allright?" she asked, staring daggers at Malcolm.

"Yes, love, we were just discussing Thea. Malcolm still blames himself for what happened to her."

"Let me speak to him," Nyssa said, squeezing Sara's hand. The girl walked away, giving them space to talk.

Malcolm looked at his former bride, frowning.

"Al-Saher…" she started, then swallowed before she continued. "You should let go of your guilt over Thea. It is Ra's Al Ghul who ran that sword through her to force Oliver to become his heir. You are a good father." She stared as he suddenly burst out in bitter laughter.

"Oh, Nyssa! _I_ _killed my son_ , remember? What sort of a _father_ does that?!"

Nyssa grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "You made a mistake. Everyone does! And sometimes… sometimes people die when that happens. I know you did not mean to kill your son! And now you have a second chance with Thea! You did everything to protect her, you… you brought her back to life! Whereas my father offered me up to be murdered by Al-Sahim without even thinking about it! And he killed my mother!"

Malcolm stared at her in shock. "I thought your mother died from a sickness…That's…"

"That is what my father told you. He suffocated her in her bed. I saw it. I was four years old."

"Nyssa…" Malcolm was at a loss of what to say.

"He made everyone believe this! And not so long ago, he was prepared to murder me!" she shouted and fell into his arms, crying.

"It's all right, you're safe," he said, patting her back soothingly. "Does Sara know?"

"Yes," Nyssa said as Sara came running up to them.

"What happened?"

"I told Malcolm about my mother," Nyssa whispered, tears still spilling from her eyes as she turned to her.

"Oh, baby…" Sara embraced her Beloved, who was sobbing hysterically, finally letting out the hurt she had been holding back all these years.

"Malcolm? Can we stay here longer?" Sara asked. "She is clearly not ready to travel right now."

"You can stay as long as you wish," Malcolm assured her. "Like I said during the ritual, you both are free to go whenever you want."

"I still want to inform everyone that I'm alive as soon as possible."

"If that is the case, then do so at once," Malcolm said. "Just ask Ahmid or Zahir for a phone."

Sara did as he said, as soon as she led Nyssa back to her chamber. Within minutes, her family and friends learned the truth.

Malcolm sighed, thinking forward to the time when they would all have to deal with the fallout from this news.

XXXXXXX

 _A few days later._

Malcolm was walking the Nanda Parbat grounds, with Rebecca by his side, as always. It was daytime; the sun beamed from the sky, warm and pleasant.

"Merlyn." A familiar voice interrupted the moment.

"Oliver." Malcolm turned to him, knowing that after Sara revealed she was alive, he'd have to face this conversation eventually.

"How long were you going to keep on with this lie?!" Oliver growled at him, without preamble.

"However long Sara chose to. It was her truth to tell."

"Yeah and that is oh-so-convenient for you, not taking responsibility while someone else takes the fall. You were just making sure it wasn't you!" The amount of anger in Oliver's voice took Malcolm by surprise.

"Oliver, Sara asked me to keep this secret for her."

"So she did. I had a few choice words to say to her about it," Oliver huffed. "But that does not erase what you did to my sister… Letting her believe she'd killed her friend! And even if it was not Sara, she shot those arrows through this sick woman!"

Malcolm's temper got the better of him then, as he realized how clueless Oliver was. "Which she would _never_ have known, if you hadn't revealed it to her on Lian Yu!"

"Well, she had the right to know! One way or another, she'd killed someone!"

"And after one has done it and knows it, there's no coming back! I wanted to protect her from this. I manipulated her into killing, and I am to blame!" His voice echoed through the air around them. "That is why I gave her Vortura! So she would never know, and would remain innocent from my sins!" Malcolm snarled, and the power of his fury made Oliver back off a little."I did it to preserve her soul's purity! But then, this is one of the 'magic things' you never cared to learn anything about!"

Oliver took a few more steps back, lifting his hands in front of him defensively, his voice turning softer to calm the new and very powerful Ra's Al Ghul. "Merlyn, listen, I did not know any better. I did what I thought was best at the time."

Malcolm glanced briefly to his side as he felt Rebecca's cool hand touch his arm. The compassionate look in her eyes made his heart melt. "Let it go, love. Remember, you always thought of him as a son."

Malcolm turned to look at Oliver. "There is no point to this fight," he said, sighing and closing his eyes briefly. "It will not erase the past, and more strife between us surely will not help the people we love."

Oliver stared a bit, surprised by the wisdom of Malcolm's words. "I don't want to fight, either," he admitted quietly after a beat.

"Let's return to the Fortress." Malcolm said. The boy nodded and they started walking towards the huge edifice.

" _Men_ " - Rebecca said, rolling her eyes at them. Malcolm had to work real hard not to burst out laughing right then and there at hearing this.

XXXXXXX

After what'd happened with Oliver, Malcolm and Rebecca returned to their chamber.

Oliver repaired to the room he had occupied as Ra's-in-training, after telling Merlyn he would like to stay a few more days in Nanda Parbat to spend some time with Sara before she and Nyssa left for their great adventure. Malcolm gave his consent, knowing that Oliver's request was motivated by something more than just a desire to catch up with his former lover. He was also going to observe how Malcolm handled his new position and whether he had any intentions of keeping up his end of the bargain they'd made back in Starling.

It had been an intense morning, and Malcolm felt drained. However, he did not immediately rush to immerse himself in the restorative waters of the Pit. Instead, he collapsed next to Rebecca on their bed. His beloved's embrace was worth more than a hundred Lazarus Pits. He slept through most of the day and woke up to her soft caresses.

"Darling, I saw Thea at the Fortress entrance. I heard her tell Ahmid she wishes to speak to you."

Malcolm rose from the bed and got dressed. He was ready when Ahmid knocked on his outer chamber door.

"Master, your daughter, Thea, insists on speaking with you."

"Of c-" Malcolm was cut off as Thea forced her way past the guard to stand before her father, looking at him with anger.

She took in his new appearance: the ornate robes, the rings of power he had worked so stealthily to acquire. She'd been such a fool. She'd believed he was the only person who would never lie to her, but she had been wrong. He'd used her like a pawn in his elaborate plan to get what he wanted. A step to climb over on his way to the throne. She had a flickering thought of grabbing one of the blades that decorated the walls and running him through with it right then and there.

"Close the door, Ahmid, and don't let anyone in. We need privacy," Malcolm ordered. "Thea, welcome." He saw how wound up she was, and made an attempt to calm things down by offering her a cup of herbal tea.

"Save it, Ra's Al Ghul."

He winced when he heard her say the name he hated so much.

"Thea, all I wanted was to protect you."

The expression on her face twisted into a grimace. "Is this how you protect your children?" she spat as she threw an envelope on the table between them.

Malcolm opened it and lost his ability to breathe. Inside were the pictures of Tommy, taken by the police after he'd died in the earthquake. Pictures showing his son with the rod protruding from his chest, of him lying there among all the rubble from the cataclysm that he, Malcolm had caused.

Malcolm couldn't stop staring, even though it hurt so very much. But on some level, he wanted it to hurt, perhaps as a form of self-punishment... He killed his child. His and Rebecca's child. His hands started to shake uncontrollably and his breath hitched as he threw a glance at his wife, then looked back at one of the pictures. He knew she could see them as well. Guilt, sadness and grief overwhelmed him and he grabbed the table for support, but ended up dropping to his knees.

"Tommy!" he cried, helplessly.

Rebecca's hand touched his arm. "I've seen it all already, the moment it happened. I was with him when he died. You have to try to forgive yourself." Malcolm heard her words but could not stop crying, the pain inside tearing him apart.

Thea was at a loss what to do, seeing Malcolm in such a state. Yes, she was angry with him, but she hadn't expected this reaction from someone she had thought was heartless. "Dad?" she asked uncertainly.

He took a breath to calm down, but several minutes passed before he was able to collect himself. He stood up slowly and turned to face his daughter. "Thea."

She saw how haunted he looked, the way he clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from shaking. He clearly had many demons to face and his reaction moments ago proved that he was not a man without remorse. Still, she had come here to confront him and she would not let him off that easy. She had her own nightmares of shooting arrow after arrow through 'Sara' to face each night.

"You made me kill someone," she said in a toneless voice.

Malcolm lowered his gaze. "Yes. It won't make anything better, but... you deserve to know her name - Maria Lang. She was-"

"Dying from terminal cancer. Sara told me; I know." She came up to him. "A year ago, I asked you to teach me to be strong. I have come to understand that it involved killing someone. Now, explain why you tricked me into this and then left me in the dark about it."

Malcolm needed a moment to collect his thoughts. He paced a little, then turned to face Thea.

"I wanted to preserve the purity of your soul. You… you weren't ready for the truth. I told Oliver that killing someone changes you. Once you confront the knowledge of having taken a life, you lose a piece of your soul, a part you can never get back. I... I wanted to protect you from this knowledge, for as long as I could."

The twistedness of his logic riled her up. If he wanted to protect her so much, then why did he make her kill in the first place? She knew now that she was more than capable of killing, or ordering for someone to be killed - after all, she had betrayed him - her own father, to the League of Asassins. But that was his plan all along, wasn't it? First, he made sure Oliver confronted Ra's to protect her, which nearly ended in Ollie's death. Then Malcolm counted on brotherly love to prompt Oliver to rescue him from Ra's Al Ghul's clutches, but not before he was tortured by the Demon's blade in order to have a claim to the title after Ra's was finally defeated.

It scared her how much of her father's plan had been a gamble. What if Oliver had not survived his duel with Ra's? What if Ra's had decided to execute Malcolm the moment he saw him instead of torturing him first? Were all these events just accidents he managed to make the best of once he had rolled the dice, or part of a carefully orchestrated spectacle, in which he was the puppet master and the rest of them oblivious rag-dolls, attached to the strings he was pulling?

Suddenly Thea remembered what Nyssa had said when she kidnapped her in Starling in order to draw Malcolm out: _My father may be the demon, but yours is the devil._ She felt her head was starting to spin from all the speculation and uncertainty. She glared at him; the chaos in her mind only magnified her anger.

"Still, you used me anyway, just like you used Oliver, to achieve what you wanted! Well, congratulations, Dad, now you are the master of this kingdom… of the entire freaking universe, for all I know!" she snapped, her voice full of sarcasm. "Oh, and pardon my manners, perhaps I should have knelt before you when I entered," she said, kneeling suddenly.

He turned in a flash and moved to pull her up, clutching her tight in an embrace she could not fight. "Darling! You never, ever have to kneel before me!" She let him hold her, overwhelmed by the purest kind of love that radiated from him. How could a man who committed such monstrous acts still be capable of it? "Thea…" Malcolm ended up on his knees before her. "It is I who should be kneeling, begging for forgiveness for all that I put you through!"

Thea knelt next to him, not caring about anything, giving into an instinctive need to hold her father. "Dad..."

"Thea. Everything I've done…" He opened his tear-strewn eyes. "Was to make sure no one would hurt you ever again. And I ended up becoming the person who did it." His voice turned dead.

The swirling storm of thoughts and emotions inside Thea subsided suddenly as she arrived at a conclusion her mind had been chasing all this time.

"No, Dad," Thea said. "You have taught me to be strong. I now see the entirety of your lesson. Becoming strong sometimes means killing someone. I did kill someone. I am ready to face that truth now. You are wrong about one thing, though. Killing does not make you lose your soul. It is love that keeps a soul intact. And yours still is, as is mine, because you love me, in your own twisted way. And I love you."

Silence reigned in the chamber. Before he could ponder her theory, Malcolm had to remind himself to breathe after the last three words he'd just heard. It was the first time she had told him she loved him. Yes, she had said that to him once before, but it was after her resurrection in the Lazarus Pit. She'd been confused; she hadn't recognized anyone properly. He knew that the words she had spoken to him then were meant for Robert, and they'd embedded themselves in his heart like small daggers. But today... Today those three words were only his and they melted into him like a warm balm that could heal all wounds. Perhaps... perhaps even mend a soul?

His thoughts turned to his daughter's theory. A cynic might discard it as naive, but the more Malcolm thought about it, the more it made sense. His mind flashed through all the events that had brought him to this point in life, and each of them seemed to prove that Thea was right.

"That is a very deep thing you just said, Thea," he whispered and rose slowly, helping her up. They just stood there for a while and it was starting to feel awkward. "Listen…," he said, "Would you like to have that tea with me, after all, and talk some more?"

Thea glanced at him. "Yeah, okay. But lets change the subject."

He nodded, smiling softly and went out for a while to give the orders.

They sat down at a low table in a cozy corner of the chamber as the servants brought in the tea and left, bowing to both of them.

"Wow, Dad, I've never had anyone _bow_ to me _._ This really feels like a kingdom. And you're the king." Her voice was still tinged with a bit of sarcasm.

"I am now the head of one of the most powerful organisations in the world, and that demands I retain their respect and obedience."

Thea looked at him over her cup of tea.

"It does not mean I am going to be a tyrant, like the previous Ra's," he continued, his gaze darkening. He recovered quickly and his voice became earnest. "I want to gradually make changes here, for the better," he said. Thea nodded, wondering what the word 'better' meant when spoken by someone as twisted as her father. Well, it couldn't be anything worse than the previous Ra's. Malcolm's decision to release Nyssa and Sara, as well as his behavior towards herself proved that he was trying to make things right. At least for now.

"But enough about me... How are things between you and Roy? You told me you were going away to be with him the last time we talked in Starling."

"Yes, I went to him, but he decided to take off somewhere. He needed to find a better place to hide from the authorities than now and did not want to endanger me. So... " She shrugged and tried to appear unconcerned, but something painful twisted deep inside her and she looked down into her teacup quickly to hide the fact that her eyes were getting moist. What good would it do to tell this man that she missed Roy like crazy? Malcolm only ever saw Roy as this nuisance, a distraction, someone unworthy of his daughter.

She had found it surprising he hadn't protested when Thea had told him in Starling that she was leaving to be with Roy. Now she knew her father acted this way only because he was busy with his coup d'etat against Ra's Al Ghul, and was happy to have her out of the way since, as it turned out, Ra's intended to unleash a toxic agent over Starling and she might have been hurt. So he clearly still cared about her, in this freakishly convoluted way. Her anger was spent, all that remained was just… sadness, loss and uncertainty.

Malcolm could see through her facade - and the mountain of hurt she must be trying to hide behind it to appear strong. He knew how that felt all too well. Oh, but she did not ever have to hide her hurt from him, didn't she understand that? He reached out his hand tentatively and touched hers. He didn't want to set her off; he knew how prone to mood changes she was. She allowed the soft caress, still keeping her face impassive, but the mask was beginning to crack.

"Thea…" he started. "Do you… Do you have to return to Starling right away? You could stay here for some time, as long as you want, if you want to." He waited for her answer with some trepidation. She could be grateful and say yes, or she could just as easily fling the cup of tea in his face and storm out.

Her expression turned thoughtful as she considered the offer. "I… I think I'd like to stay, for now," she said slowly. "I hope that tea isn't laced with Vortura to make me susceptible to your suggestion," she added after a beat.

Malcolm took the cup from her and downed the rest of her tea. "There. Now, can you trust me?"

She was at a loss of what to say for a moment, surprised by his reaction. "I swear to you Thea, I will _never_ dose you with Vortura again or go behind your back to do anything that you won't agree to. You are safe here."

The honesty in his voice convinced her, but she still had some questions. "So, if I stay here for now, does that mean I have to wear some sort of League outfit, obey some rules, stay locked up or what? And I didn't exactly pack much for this trip so..."

"No," Malcolm hastened to add. "You are my daughter and you are free to go where you want, do whatever you want, without any conditions. And don't worry about the clothes or anything. All will will be provided for you, as soon as you need it."

She nodded. He rose. "Will you wait for a moment while I give orders for your room to be prepared?"

"Sure."

He returned soon after. "We'll go there when it's ready; shouldn't take long," he said. They sat back by the table. "Thea, I was wondering…" he started, his voice a little hesitant. "Once you make yourself comfortable in your chamber, perhaps… perhaps you would like to take a walk with me on the grounds?"

"Sure, why not?" She shrugged. "It's not like I wanna be cooped up inside all the time."

"That's why I want to show you the grounds, so you can go out for a stroll when you feel like it."

Soon after, someone knocked softly at the door. It was one of the servants, come to inform his master that Thea's room was ready.

Malcolm nodded and turned to one of the servants hovering nearby. "Make sure my daugther gets warm garments to wear, and anything else she wishes to have." The servant bowed and withdrew.

XXXXXXX

Ahmid took her to her chamber.

Thea was mesmerized as she entered her room. It was like a fairytale princess' chamber, with a huge four-poster bed, a beautiful chandelier, a desk, a wardrobe the size of an apartment, and it had this amazingly rich eastern decor. She'd been used to luxury her entire life, but - this just went beyond anything she'd ever imagined or seen. A servant, named Adara, knocked soon after and brought her some warmer clothes for the walk, some utensils for her bathroom and said to call for her whenever she needed anything.

It was almost dusk and the snow was falling as she went out for a walk with her father. Malcolm watched as Thea caught a snowflake in her hand.

"Do you know, each snowflake is unique, inimitable?" Malcolm asked, observing the tiny white sparkle in her palm. "Just like you are," he whispered after a pause.

"But they melt so quickly…," Thea said sadly as the warmth of her hand made the snowflake turn to water within seconds. Its delicate beauty dissipated so suddenly, she was barely able to rememeber its shape. Something inside her longed to preserve that graceful shape forever. It all changed so fast, too fast.

Everything... everyone she cherished either disappeared or died right in front of her… Like that snowflake… Like her mother. And with each loss, she felt she was losing a part of herself as well. The man she'd thought of as her father died years ago; her true father was far from what she'd expected from the get go, but just as she had started to come to terms with who he was, he changed again, into… one of the most powerful people on the planet. How would that influence him? What would it mean for - selfish as this sounded - for her?

Thea's unspoken question was suddenly answered, as if Malcom had read her mind: " _You_ won't melt. You are unique, special _and_ indomitable. Let the water drop from your hand back into the snow...," he instructed her. "It will fly back into the sky when it gets warmer and then become a snowflake again. Don't be sad anymore, baby." He wiped a tear that fell from her eye. "Now look around."

Thea gazed at the landscape that surrounded her and just stood there, speechless, taking in the beauty of it all, every grief and doubt forgotten. "Dad, this is… wow," she whispered. She looked at the snow-covered trees, the starlit sky above them, the moon... It was... magical.

Malcolm led her further down the path. As they passed the place he had met with Oliver when he was infiltrating the League, he saw Rebecca there. He shared a look with his immortal wife, an unasked question on his lips, but she shook her head. "She isn't ready for this encounter yet, love. We will let her know in time."

He nodded slightly and was ready to move on, but Thea stopped him. "Dad, you look like you've just seen a ghost. What's up?"

"It's allright honey; let's just keep going."

They walked for nearly two hours, Malcolm showing Thea the views. She took him by the hand at some point, all her previous anger gone.

An unexpected aura of peace seemed to have enveloped them, an unspoken link of communication, expressed only in gestures and looks. Neither of them thought about the past, or the future, there was only _now_. A bird, taking flight from among the trees, spreading its wings, moisture glistening on the grey-blue feathers in the pale moonlight... It made Thea squeeze her father's hand harder and let out a gasp of delighted surprise.

A little while later, Malcolm stopped suddenly and they observed two young wolves running across a small ravine below. Wild, free and untamed.

There were many moments like this, each one of them imprinted upon their memories, more vivid than any photograph, each punctuated with a smile or a touch that would become immortal.

When they finally returned to the Fortress, supper was already waiting in the grand dining room. They ate in companionable silence; then Malcolm walked Thea to her room and tucked her in. She dozed off in seconds; both the walk and the emotional whirlwind she had experienced today had clearly tired her out.

"See you in the morning, dear. Sweet dreams," he said as he left, seeing she was smiling while asleep. He left two guards by her door, with orders that she could come to his quarters any time she demanded it.

XXXXXXX

Malcolm returned to his chambers, but found them empty. Rebecca must still be roaming the grounds. She'd chosen a different path than he and Thea after their encounter by the stone. Clearly, she had decided it would be best if father and daughter had this time alone to themselves.

He also knew how she liked to take solitary walks on occassion and then tell him about what she had seen after she got back. They'd played this game all those years ago when she was alive - she'd sneak out, discover some obscure park, gallery or monument and then take him on a spontaneous trip there, be it the middle of the night or the break of dawn. She saw beauty everywhere. While others sought it in places that were miles away, she could spot a charming, secluded garden cafe in a side street in the middle of Starling City's bustling Business District. She'd then drag him from behind the mountain of Merlyn Global papers he had to sign 'right away' and whenever he allowed himself to let go and follow her, the day turned into this perfect, unexpected adventure that filled them both with awe and energy to take on whatever challenges they were facing.

Not finding her here at this moment did awaken a certain tug of anxiety inside him. He felt it almost every time she was out of his sight, but now it was stronger. His chamber felt hollow without her inside. The peace he had experienced during his walk with Thea had evaporated; all he could feel now was unease.

His gaze flickered over to the pictures of Tommy Thea had thrown at him when she'd arrived, still strewn over the main table and on the floor. He picked each one up reverently, putting them back in the envelope. His eyes lingered on the last one. He studied each feature of his son's dead face; its ghostly paleness besmirched by the dirt from the fallen debris… The white streaks in his hair, left by the cement particles released as the building shook until it was nothing more than rubble. The ugly red bloodstain on his shirt where the rod had penetrated his chest, damaging his organs beyond repair. The eyes that would remain forever closed now, and he, Malcolm was the cause of all this. The pain… The pain Tommy must have gone through…

Malcolm felt the hum of blood in his ears and his heartbeat accelerated dramatically. His vision of the room became blurry, all he could see clearly was Tommy's face in the picture.

 _Open your eyes_ , a voice inside him pleaded, but he wasn't sure whether it belonged to him or someone… something else. It felt as if he were being pulled into a vortex; the air rushed around him with increasing speed, like a tornado. A sudden flash of lightning blinded him, and when he could see again, he was standing on the edge of an empty lacrosse playing field. When he looked to his right, he saw a boy sitting on one of the benches, his head bowed low, his small hands still clutching the lacrosse stick as his coach leaned over him with concern.

"What's wrong, buddy? We won the game and you performed spectacularly well today. Why are you so sad?"

The boy raised his head and Malcolm gasped as he recognized his son. He was about ten, attending the boarding school in Connecticut Malcolm had sent him to after he'd returned from Nanda Parbat. "It's just… I was hoping my dad would be here to see it… It was the final game of the season… I called him and he promised he'd come…"

The coach's gaze darkened, but he recovered quickly and made an effort to sound cheerful. "Hey, don't worry Tommy, he must have gotten stuck in traffic or something." He fished out a phone from his pocket and handed it to the boy. "Why don't we call him right now and tell him all about it? I'm sure he'll be thrilled!"

Tommy dialed the number and waited for the signal. It finally connected and Tommy took a deep breath to start speaking. ' _We're sorry, but the number you have dialled is unavailable at this time, please leave a message or try again later.'_ Tommy disconneced and handed the phone back to his coach.

"Don't you want to try again? Maybe…"

"There's no use," the boy said as he gathered up his gear and headed for the changing rooms. "Thank you, coach Stanton."

Malcolm stood frozen in place as he observed his son slowly making his way across the field, with that huge backpack strapped to his shoulders. He longed to run up to him and tell him how proud he was, but his feet were glued firmly to the ground. This was the past and he was just the visitor, unable to influence what had happened decades ago. The most ironic thing was, he could not even remember what had been so important that it kept him from attending Tommy's big day back then. He watched as the coach made his way to the building as well. Clouds gathered above the field with unusual rapidness.

Another lightning flash took Malcolm to a corrridor in Merlyn Mansion. He saw his younger self, facing an eighteen-year old Tommy, who was holding two travel bags and staring at his father with disbelief in his eyes.

"What do you mean, 'You're not going,' Dad?! You were supposed to accompany me on this college tour; we've been planning this for months!"

"Lower your voice, Tommy," the younger Malcolm admonished in an icy cold tone, lifting his eyes reluctantly from a document he was studying. "There is no need to get so dramatic. I have to oversee the completion of this deal. Merlyn Global has been trying to acquire this account for over a year." Tommy's expression was still surly. Malcolm put the document away and took a few steps towards his son, his tone softening a little. "Listen, you go on ahead, and I will join you once this is settled, allright?"

Tommy's lips twisted in a bitter grimace and he shook his head. "Don't bother." He turned on his heel and strolled past the invisible, ghostly form of his father in the doorway. Malcolm saw his younger self sigh in annoyance, then pick up his cell to make a phone call.

He actually remembered that incident. Tommy's college trip had turned into a wild drinking binge that resulted in a totalled car, disorderly conduct charges in several states, and Malcolm having to make a hefty donation to one of the colleges to ensure his son would be accepted there for the fall semester.

Just like at the lacrosse field, he found he wasn't able to follow Tommy and change what had already happened. All he could do was stand there and observe his younger self speaking on the phone to one of his associates until he heard the distant rumble of thunder and prepared for another lightning strike to take him to whatever destination he'd be visiting next.

The cacophony of wind and storm closed over him. Merlyn let the noise fall into the background as the newly found clarity of mind took hold of his thoughts and made him remember and analyze each and every mistake he had made with Tommy. Each and every moment he had brought him pain instead of consolation. He had used his tricks to try to make his son stronger, so that no one would ever be able to hurt him again, but he'd been the one hurting him repeatedly for all those years.

His Nanda Parbat traning had left him a shell… A stone-cold killer, but still, a shell. His judgement had been clouded, even as he thought he had found new purpose. Mistakes were made and one of them had led to the death of a person more precious to him than everything else.

Why is it that we hurt the ones we love the most?

Why do we only realize that when it is all too late?

The vortex finally completed its journey. This time, Malcolm found himself standing over Tommy in the collapsing CNRI building on the day of the earthquake. The ground was shaking, debris falling everywhere. It appeared that Tommy was already dead. Malcolm regained the ability to move in this vision, so he knelt next to his son and grabbed him by the arms.

"Tommy!"

No reaction, no pulse. Malcolm touched his son's cheek, grey ash falling away to reveal the deathly paleness of the boy's skin

Suddenly Tommy's eyes snapped open, and Malcolm almost recoiled in shock. The boy's irises were glazed over with a white film, like those of a blind man.

"Laurel... Where is…?" Tommy asked in a pathetic croak that barely resembled his voice.

"She's safe, Tommy; you rescued her."

"Oliver told me that as well."

"Oliver is trying to save the city; now we have to get you out of here!" Malcolm tried to think of a way to remove the rod from Tommy's chest and apply some rags lying about to slow the bleeding. None of what was happening or what he was doing made any sense, but he was too desperate to dwell on it now.

"I... I'll have my scientists here soon; they'll bring all the tech and medicines we need to make you better, just stay with me!"

"I c-can't." Tommy's voice turned into an incoherent gurgle as blood spurted from his mouth and his eyes closed for the final time.

Malcolm cradled the body in his arms with a howl of loss. And within seconds, it was gone, dispersed in a cloud of dust.

"No!" Malcolm screamed, watching the ashes slip through his shaking fingers, then swirl up in a violent gust of wind.

He looked up and saw Tommy's spirit standing over him. He lost his ability to speak.

The boy was almost translucent, like a black and white hologram, still wearing the same clothes as on the day he died. The red bloodstain from where the rod had penetrated Tommy's chest contrasted sharply with the greyscale surroundings. They were in a dark stone corridor now, illuminated slightly by flickering torches.

"You summoned me here, Dad. Now tell me, what do you want?" Tommy said in a hollow, resigned tone.

Malcolm's brow furrowed in confusion.

"S-Summoned you here? I didn't, I… I just looked at your picture and… and rememebered," he stuttered.

"Oh, so you don't fully have the hang of it yet, do you?" Tommy said, and the sarcasm in his voice almost made him sound like a stranger. But it was still Tommy, Malcolm knew, only twisted by all that had happened to him… All that Malcolm had put him through.

"Mom was oh-so-ready to fall back into your arms when you reached out to her subconsciously, while you were freezing to death. But of course, Ra's Al Ghul cannot die so easily. A close encounter with death grants him the power to invade our dimension. Disturb the peace."

"Is this what I am doing now, Tommy? Disturbing your peace?" Malcolm whispered, standing up slowly and taking a few steps towards his son.

"Not only mine," was the cold answer that echoed through the corridor. "Every victim of your 'Undertaking'. I dwell among their spirits, I see their torment, mirrored by my own. Do you want to hear their screams, Father?"

A wave of noise suddenly crashed over Malcolm. More than five hundred souls screamed inside his mind, attacking his senses with their fury and anguish. He opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound came forth. His lungs burned as the air was pushed back into his chest and he choked on his own breath. He threw up his arms to ward off the assault, but it was like trying to halt a gale force wind. The onslaught continued relentlessly, tearing off chunks of his soul as it ripped through him.

At some point, he forced himsef to open his eyes. Malcolm noticed he and Tommy were no longer alone in the corridor. The voices inside his head materialized as one by one, the victims of the Undertaking appeared around him. Distorted human shadows, slowly taking shape - men, women and children with faces full of anguish… Each one brought him a story, like a twisted Christmas present; a story of how they had died, no gruesome detail spared.

A man trying to rescue his daughter from her crib, only to watch it get crushed by a falling chunk of brickwork and then die right next to her when the roofs above collapsed, blood and brain matter mixing with wood and debris.

A son, dragging his father out of a burning vehicle; both vaporized as the tank exploded seconds before they would have been in the clear; blood particles flying through the air in slow motion.

A teenage boy with a sports backpack, running as fast as he could to escape the collapsing sidewalk behind him, and yet not fast enough; the roiling ground catching up to him and sucking him in, erasing any future he might have had.

Malcolm's consciousness shifted back and forth with lightining speed - he was both the observer and each of the victims. Or were they inside him? He heard their frantic thoughts, their desperate hopes, their final prayers to a God that refused to answer. A God who had committed that act - him.

 _You've always had something of a God-complex, Malcolm._ \- Robert's words echoed in his head above the cacophony of noise.

Suddenly Malcolm found himself standing in front of Rebecca's clinic. Closed, abandonened, just as he had arranged. No one had died there that night. Except… Except _her_ dream. He watched the walls collapse, and the horrid view mixed with the memories of the day Rebecca had first shown it to him, so proud that she'd created a place where she could help those who needed it most. And he had destroyed it.

The wailing grew louder. The visions accelerated, and each embedded itself inside him like shrapnel, never to be ignored or forgotten. "Stop! Make it stop! Please!" He doubled over and grabbed the stone wall for support, but his pleas fell on deaf ears; the parade of gruesome deaths continued unabated.

Malcolm did not know what was worse - the anguish they projected onto him or his own pain deep inside, the pain of knowing that he had caused such horror. Actually experiencing the feelings of these people, people he had thought of as mindless rodents who were only fit for extermination… He recognized their emotions as his own… Emotions he himself had felt when Rebecca was torn from him all those years ago. What had happened to his family that night was monstrous. And it had created a monster. A monster bent on vengeance, a monster who achieved his goals without regard for anything, and started a chain reaction of revenge and death that spiralled way out of control.

He deserved to die. Perhaps he should just let go and face whatever punishment the universe or a higher power had prepared for him? But... was that really the answer? Would his death give peace to these souls? Would it bring any form of closure to the families they'd left behind, buried in grief and trapped by the shattered remains of a life they'd known before the earthquake?

Or would death be just another way for him to escape, to run away, like he had been doing since his battle with Oliver on the Merlyn Global rooftop?

Something inside him shifted at the thought.

He raised his head and took a deep breath. The next time a soul with a gruesome Undertaking death story came at him, he was ready. He reached out and grabbed the man's arm. The ghost was surprised and struggled a little, his eyes flashing red in ager. Malcolm did not let that faze him. He looked deep into those pools of loss and fury, no longer trying to block the emotions and visions the phantom projected.

This time, instead of fighting the pain, Malcolm embraced it and moved beyond the selfish desire to relieve his own agony. He held the man's gaze and opened his mind to what the soul had to communicate. The ghost had been the head of a charity organisation in the Glades, focused on a youth program that prevented teenage boys from joining gangs and offered teenage girls alternatives to becoming hookers in Starling City's seedy neighborhoods. He had died on the night of the Undertaking, buried under the rubble of his modest office in the Glades.

Malcolm gasped in shock at the magnitude of consequences this one death had resulted in. He let go of the man's arm and took a few steps back.

The wrath radiating from the figure made Malcolm's vision hazy and unfocused.

"How dare you even come here?!" The phantom's voice echoed in his ears. "What do you want with us?!"

He was aware of the other shadows closing in on him.

He struggled to think straight, but one desire prevailed and kept him from collapsing.

If he was as close to death as he believed he was, then he refused to go without making any sort of difference. Whatever awaited him later, he knew he could at least try to atone for his sins now.

"I… I want you to tell me what I can do to make this better. Not just you; all of you!" He glanced at the shadows who had assaulted him and those who still had not told him their story yet. "I am no longer just the Malcolm Merlyn who wreaked havoc upon your world and brought your lives to ruin. Otherwise I would not be able to contact you this way. I am ready. Tell me what you need and it shall be done!" he shouted, and the howling slowly died down.

He started seeing pictures, scenes… He watched, one by one, the lives destroyed by the Undertaking, by all he had done. As he watched, his mind worked on solutions to their plight. Somehow, each name and each wrong he had to right imprinted themselves into his memory as the shadows gradually disappeared. Once he reached the last one, he and Tommy were alone again, back in Malcolm's Nanda Parbat chambers.

He collapsed on the bed and Tommy stood over him, observing.

"You did well today," his son said after a beat. His voice was still dead, distant. He did not sound anything like the Tommy he'd known - his angry, hot-headed, unruly boy. The anger, the fire, it was all gone. The tone he used now was measured, unfeeling. Cold.

Malcolm could only gasp for breath in response, too exhausted to ask what Tommy meant. The ordeal he'd just endured went beyond any mere physical experience. "But you still cannot stay with me." He whispered hoarsely. It was more of a statement than a question.

"No," Tommy said in a firm voice. "I do not want to." Malcolm cringed at the rejection. And yet, in view of what he'd just seen and all that had happened, how could he expect anything else?

"Only until you fall asleep," Tommy said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

"And then… Will you visit sometimes?" Malcolm felt the inevitability of yet another rejection and clutched at his chest below the covers.

"That depends on how well you honor the promise you just made to those souls, and the bargain you struck with Oliver. I will be watching. We all will."

"I...I hope so." Speaking became so hard that each of the words he choked out felt like a pin in his lungs. Would he be able to deliver on the promises he had made? What would happen if he failed?

He lay there, the burden of those 503 souls still on his mind. It felt as if there was a chain wrapped around his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter like a vice, preventing him from crying out.

The presence of his supernatural son at his side was the only way he could keep on breathing, ever so slowly, as he fell into a restless sleep. He had nightmares that night, so many of them he lost count; of the Undertaking, of the lives he had taken as the Dark Archer, of… of things he could not even remember or ones that never really happened. They merged into a strange dreamscape, had him wandering through horrific worlds filled with demons and monsters. He was asleep and yet not, immersed in this torture.

"Tommy..." He gasped as light hit his eyes in the morning, desperately looking around for his boy. Then he remembered the words: _Only until you fall asleep._

He gently caressed the place Tommy had sat. His muscles ached as if he had run for miles instead of lying in bed all night. He forced himself to get up, took out a vial of Lazarus Pit water from a drawer at the side table and downed it in a few gulps.

It appeared a heatwave was about to hit Nanda Parbat and Malcolm felt sweat forming on his brow as he put on his shirt. He realized it was just a hotflash from all the recent stress, so he did his best to shake it off.

The miraculous elixir slowly eased the physical symptoms of his ordeal, but he still felt empty and lost.

Rebecca appeared like a balm at his side. Her eyes were filled with concern. "Something happened while I was away."

"Tommy came to visit." Malcolm reached out and touched her hand, taking simple comfort in the sensation of his skin brushing against hers.

"He brought the Undertaking souls with him?" she guessed. Malcolm froze for a moment, remembering the nightmares, the stories... That was the only answer his wife needed.

"You deserved more time, more peace. He should have waited…"

"No." Malcolm answered quickly, in a firmer voice. Even with the nightmares the visit had brought, he was grateful for it. After all this time, he'd finally spoken to Tommy, however briefly. The memory of it caused a tug of longing in his heart. Longing for his son's love, longing for the moments lost, never to be regained. It was so deep, so strong that it almost deprived him of breath. "He is right. These souls waited long enough for their justice, so did their families. Now I have the power to give it to them."

Rebecca caressed his face softly. "So this is the first act the new Ra's Al Ghul will use his powers for?"

He smiled "Yes; and a fitting one, I think."

"I agree, but-"

A knock on the door interrupted them.

It was Thea, followed closely by Ahmid, who wore an apologetic expression on his face. Malcolm nodded at the warrior to reassure him he was not angry and then turned to smile at his daughter. She smiled back and he breathed a mental sigh of relief - it did not look as if she was there to throw a fit about something.

"I thought you'd be awake by now." She said cheerfully, but then her expression truned serious. "I was wondering if maybe… Maybe we could have a morning training session, like we used to?" she asked, her voice a little hesitant. "I haven't had any occassion to practice lately and I feel a bit rusty."

Only then did Malcolm notice that she was already wearing her gi. "Of course we can," he answered when he recovered from his surprise. "Just wait a second."

He quickly went to his wardrobe, changed into his gi and led her to the Nanda Parbat practice hall.

Thea gasped as they entered. She'd never seen such an array of weapons gathered in one place.

Malcolm smiled at his daughter's awe. She walked the length of the hall and finally chose a pair of Tai Chi swords. "Just don't go easy on me this time, like you did in Corto Maltese, allright?" she said, throwing him the weapon and taking her fighting stance.

"I thought you said you were a little rusty," he teased and they began.

He was impressed by how much her skills had improved over the past several months; she must have been practicing the movements on her own like he had advised, without an opponent. Mastering the correct position and the angle of the blade was important - it got engraved in muscle memory and was very useful in a real fight. Of course, the enemy might be unpredictable, so he challenged her with unexpected moves and shouted out instructions whenever she stumbled. "Remember your legwork; do not hesitate before a more vicious attack, your opponent won't. Yes, just like this."

Suddenly, his assassin senses warned him they were being watched, and he turned his head to the entrance. He had to drop to one knee to block Thea's bold surprise attack and then twisted his blade so that her sword fell to the floor with a clang.

"Whoa, that was a nice move, Da-" She turned in the same direction Malcolm was looking and saw Oliver standing in the doorway, a morose expression on his face. "Ollie, I thought you were still asleep, you usually don't get up until-"

He cut her off. "Thea, I need to speak to Malcolm. In private."

She saw the steely hue in her brother's eyes, but did not leave before she picked up her blade and put it back in its place. She was not one to be cowed by stern looks. Not anymore. She threw him a challenging glare of her own as she passed to exit the hall.

Oliver strolled inside and faced Malcolm, his lips suddenly twisting in a sarcastic grin.

"Well, if I only knew how you were spending your... mornings," he drawled, paraphrasing the words Merlyn had said to him on the night of the Undertaking.

Malcolm sighed inaudibly as he moved to put his sword away, like Thea had. He'd noticed Oliver was still holstering his League of Assassisns scimitar. Hardly somethig one would choose to bring along to a friendly chat. It did not bode well for the conversation they were about to have.

He turned to face Oliver, unarmed. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Well, how about, for starters, you tell me how you manouvered my sister into to staying here and training with you. Is this the beginning of your recruitment strategy for new League of Assassins members?" Oliver's voice was low and threatening, but rose with each word he spoke. Malcolm was taken aback by the vehemence that tinged the boy's tone.

"It was Thea's _choice_ to stay in Nanda Parbat for a while" he answered levelly.

"After how many glasses of water or cups of tea dosed with Vortura?!"

"I only dosed Thea with Vortura _one time._ The night of Maria Lang's death. The rest of the decisions she made were her own."

"Oh yes, and of course, you expect me to believe that, you manipulative bastard!" Oliver took a few steps towards Malcolm, his hand on the hilt of his scimitar.

Merlyn's temper finally took the better of him. "Well here is a pot calling the kettle black!" he spat. "I wonder, who is the manipulative bastard here?!"

Oliver took a breath to respond, but Malcolm did not give him a chance to speak. " _You manipulated me_ into sparing Daniel Brickwell's life by saying this was the only way I could ever earn Thea's forgiveness. In the meantime, you were setting her against me whenever you got a chance!"

Oliver blinked, suddenly uncertain.

Malcolm's lips parted in a bitter, sarcastic smile. "Oh yes, I know all about that 'I can't believe your father didn't tell you I was the Arrow' conversation you had with your sister when she learned of your true identity. You used the lie that was yours to set straight, and twisted it to undermine my relationship with Thea. And you kept chipping away at it until there was nothing left inside her but pain and hatred!"

Malcolm was the one to approach Oliver this time, their faces inches from each other. "You had me chasing leads, going out of the city, all based on the promise Thea would be safe under her brother's protection! So where were you when Ra's ran her through with his sword?! Where was your 'team'?! On another one of your all-important Arrow missions?! Or were they just as oblivious as me?!"

"Malcolm-"

"No, I am done with this! Playing the villain to your hero routine! I have my share of sins to answer for, but _so do you!_ " The new Ra's Al Ghul's voice remained low, but it echoed through the hall as if he had shouted. "' _Speedy"_ he sneered. "Isn't that what your team Arrow chose to call Thea from now on? Donning her dead-beat boyfriend's outfit? Well, you clearly were not there for _months_ to train her or even give her an hour of practice, and she sure as hell needs a lot of it, if she is to face all the criminal infestation out there once she returns. I am just making sure she has the proper training. And for your information, _she asked me_ for today's session because she felt her skills were getting rusty. Where were you then instead of training her? _Where?!_ "

Malcolm paused at the surprise in Oliver's eyes. "Oh yes, she will return to Starling, regardless of your accusations of me trying to keep her here as a member of my League. It is her choice, and I shall honour it."

His tone changed to ice cold. "What have _you_ been doing in the meantime? Playing lovebirds with your Ms Smoke in Coast City? Let me tell you from my own experience, Oliver. You better prepare _everyone_ you love for the battles you are facing, even those you do not expect them to participate in, or you _will_ lose them."

Oliver unsheathed his scimitar and put it to Merlyn's neck.

Malcolm just laughed. "Are you really _that cluless?_ " Then his tone turned viperous again. "Moira was murdered by Slade because _you did not breathe a word_ of warning to your family when he came to 'visit' your house, while _you knew who he was and why he was there!_ After having an enemy like _me_ , did you really think _he_ would not have a hidden agenda? That he wasn't still out for revenge?! _Were you thinking at all?!_ " He exposed his throat to Oliver, tilting his head back a little. "I returned for Thea as soon as I knew. I saved her from the Mirakuru goons that tried to kill her. Where were _you_ when 'Speedy' needed you the most? Why did you stand by when Slade killed your mother?! Oh yes, Thea told me how it happened!" This was not just a threatening whisper; it was a growl full of untamed fury. Malcolm grabbed Oliver's scimitar, twisted his wrist in one swift movement, threw the blade to the floor, grabbed the Arrow by his throat and pinned him to the wall, holding his right arm in a vice-like grip " _Why?! Would you have stood by if he had decided to kill Thea as well?_ _!_ "

Both men were panting by then, staring each other down. Malcolm realized he was inches away from losing control, so he loosened his grasp on Oliver's neck.

"You forget, Merlyn. I never even would have met Slade if you had not sentenced me to that Island in the first place!" Oliver choked out. "All that's happened since is just a domino effect _you_ set in motion when you sabotaged my father's yacht!"

"So now you make yourself out to be what, a domino? A playing piece with no mind of its own? Push and you fall obediently wherever you're directed? You made _choices_ on that Island and back here in Starling, Oliver, just like-" He broke off suddenly as a thought hit him. "Just like I made choices after my wife was murdered." His tone calmed and he released Oliver from his grip entirely.

His gaze grew distant and for a while silence reigned in the hall. "Now we both have to live with those choices, no matter how much grief and destruction they brought." Malcolm's voice was completely level now. "I just wish… I wish we could live with them without constantly fighting. Things are changing, Oliver, but I cannot prove it to you by talking, can I?"

"No, you can't." Oliver's tone was still surly, but he sounded calmer as well. "We struck a bargain a while ago and I intend to hold you to it. Every detail of it."

Malcolm nodded.

"Actually what I came to talk to you about in the first place…" Oliver turned aside and paced away a little. "I wanted to tell you that I'm returning to Starling City tonight. We will stay in touch through the appointed channels and I hope my sister follows me not too long after I go."

"She will," Malcolm assured him, but knew the boy would not believe him until Thea actually landed at the Starling City airport.

The door opened and Thea popped her head inside. "Are you two done squabbling already?" She'd clearly been eavesdropping on their quarrel. "Because I'm hungry and we were supposed to have breakfast right about now."

"Yes, I believe are done." Malcolm said, throwing a cursory look at Oliver, who gave a curt nod.

"Let's go get changed and I'll give the orders. I assume you will still be joining us?" He adressed Oliver, who nodded firmly.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He threw Malcolm a fake smile and left for his chamber.

The three met several minutes later in the dining hall. The table abounded in fruit and various kinds of local cuisine. Malcolm dismissed the servants and Thea threw herself at the food with gusto. She really had to be famished after their intense workout. Oliver was obviously familiar with the exotic dishes and also sported quite an appetite, but composed his meal more carefully, picking out the favourites.

His sister seemed to be determined to try everything and commented loudly on what she liked and what she did not. "Umm, this has a bit too much cumin… Oh, and this one is _so spicy_!" She coughed a bit and reached for a goblet of water. "Um, dad, remember when I ordered that daily special vegetable soup when we first arrived in Corto Maltese? It was so hot I almost choked!" She laughed and Malcolm nodded, smiling softly in return.

Thea did practically all the talking, initiating neutral topics in which they could all participate. Oliver joined in as best he could. Malcolm was the most subdued, throwing in an occassional comment, but usually, he only spoke when prompted by Thea, choosing to observe the siblings' banter rather than participate in it.

Oliver suddenly noticed how tired Merlyn looked, and the haunted expression his eyes took on from time to time, especially when Thea reminisced about their father-daughter sojourn to Corto Maltese and other countries after Slade's attack on Starling City. He only picked at his food, probably just to keep up appearances. Oliver wondered what was going on with the new Ra's. Was running the biggest assassins empire in the known universe already taking its toll, or was Merlyn so absent-minded because he was plotting something?

"Hey, Ollie, why don't you and I go for a long walk through the grounds, since you are leaving tonight?" Thea asked suddenly when they finished, breaking both men out of their reveries.

"Umm, sure, why not? It could be fun," Oliver answered. "As long as it is all right with your father," he added with just a tinge of sarsasm, throwing a questioning look at Malcolm.

"Of course it is. Like I said before, Thea is free to do whatever she wishes." He looked at Oliver earnestly and then turned to smile at his daughter. "Now, I've got some matters I need to attend to. You two have a nice day. And let me know when you get back." This time, he threw them both a slight smile, then stood up and exited the chamber.

When the door closed behind him, the siblings shared a look. "Is it just me or was Malcolm acting kind of weird at breakfast? He barely said a word, despite my best efforts," Thea speculated.

"Yeah, I saw that too," Oliver answered curtly, his eyes growing darker as he turned to stare at the door, gaze so intense as if he wanted to bore through all the heavy wood and metal.

"You think he's up to something," Thea stated.

"Well, isn't he always?" Oliver asked in a mistrustful voice. "What do you think?"

"I don't know; can't put my finger on it. Perhaps it was related to that quarrel with you about me staying here a while," Thea said, her tone slightly accusatory.

"You know why I don't like that, Thea."

She just rolled her eyes at him "Listen, I'm not some little clueless and naive girl anymore. I can take care of myself." She had that stubborn Speedy expression right now, so Oliver just shrugged helplessly. "Anyway, let's stop talking about it or we will end up fighting. I really want us to have a nice walk today."

"Allright," Oliver said, shaking off his suspicions for the time being. "Meet you at the main entrance in a half hour?"

"You got it."

XXXXXXX

Malcolm could feel Oliver and Thea's eyes on his back all the way to the dining hall exit. He felt tired and battered. As soon as the door closed behind him, he paused and breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know if he could have kept up the charade much longer. He was already exhausted after the sudden encounter with Tommy 's spirit, the night with the Undertaking souls, sparring with Thea, and everything that had happened since Sara announced her return from the dead. Apparently, a vial of Lazarus Pit water only went so far when one faced such a barrage of assaults, both human and supernatural, at every turn.

This latest confrontation with Oliver was the last thing he'd needed. He'd hoped they had come to some sort of an understanding during their previous exchange, but it was obvious that Oliver still did not trust him further than he could throw him, and would be prone to see evil intent behind any of his actions. He knew he couldn't expect anything else after all he had done over the years, but the avalanche of consquences and events he needed to make up for was both mentally and physically draining, to an extent he had never known before.

He rushed back to his chamber and downed two more vials of the elixir. In less than an hour, he would have a practice session with his warriors. Most were new members of the League, some of them recruited by Malcolm himself from among his associates. They were all skilled in combat, but still needed training to achieve the level required by the organisation he was now in charge of. He knew that while many of the League members welcomed the change in leadership, others were still uncertain, or even resented Al Sa-her for attaining the position. Which was why he needed those he truly trusted to be ready, should any trouble arise.

He sat down in an armchair and closed his eyes for a while, letting the magic water do its work. He must have dozed off at some point, because it seemed that only a few seconds had passed before Ahmid knocked on the door and announced the warriors were now assembled in the practice hall. Malcolm said he would join them in several minutes.

The elixir and the nap had restored his strength. He felt energy coursing through him, and seemed to have regained his ability to compartmentalize his thoughts; put the unwanted ones aside to be dealt with when necessary, instead of nagging at him constantly and dispersing his focus. However, his trust in the Lazarus Pit had always been far from complete, and it remained so. There were simply too many unknown variables. Most of his knowledge about it came from legends and rumours he had heard during his training in Nanda Parbat. Some were miraculously astounding, some downright terrifying.

That was why he had voiced his reservations about immersing Thea in the waters when Oliver had proposed it. She seemed to have suffered no ill effects from her resurrection besides the initial confusion, but that did not prove anything. Malcolm also realized how little he knew about the other supernatural aspects of being Ra's Al Ghul and the extent to which the Pit was involved. His recent experiences with the spirit world made him feel sort of like a freshman in college who'd suddenly been transferred to senior year without any preparation. Everything had happened so fast… But he had made a promise to 502 souls, their families, and most importantly - to Tommy. It was a promise he intended to keep, but had no idea how-

So much for compartmentalizing...

Malcolm closed his eyes and after a short while, a memory flashed in his mind. His former master, entering a room, inaccessible to everyone else. He remembered the whispers about what it was.

Ra's Al Ghul's private Library. The Demon's Ring was the only key. With everything that had been happening over the past few weeks, Malcolm hadn't had the time to even consider going there and yet - it might hold the answers he was searching for…

He shook his head. Now was not the time to think about it. He had a task to perform and it required all of his focus. He made a mental note to visit the Library after the training session.

XXXXXXXX

When Malcolm walked into the practice hall, the assembled men moved to stand at attention in two rows. There were fifteen warriors in total, including one senior member of the League who acted as Ra's al Ghul's training assistant. The League's new leader strode the length of the hall and stopped in front of his second. "Ashraf" Malcolm adressed him and the man bowed in respect.

"Master. The warm-up is complete. We are ready."

"Very well then." He ordered the men to divide into pairs for a sparring session first. He and Ashraf would observe, note the warriors' mistakes, and shout out instructions as they practiced. The movements or punches that were done incorrectly would usually be taken into account and addressed later, during Malcolm and Ashraf's sparring session showing the correct execution of the movements, including attack, defense and deflection.

There were four duels each pair had to go through.

Malcolm noticed that one of the trainees lost all of his duels. He put up a good fight at the beginning, but seemed to lose confidence as his opponent persisted, and at some point began to make rookie mistakes that landed him on the floor with a blade pressed against his throat each and every time.

"Enough!" Malcolm ordered when most of the duels were nearly done. "Now we will divide you into two groups of seven. One group atttacks Ashraf, the other one, me." He proceeded to pick the warriors he would face and included the one who'd performed most poorly in his group. The man's face was covered by his League mask, but Malcolm could see the fear in his eyes as he took his position amongst the warriors that now surrounded him.

"Begin." Merlyn intoned, his mind flashing back to the time he himself was just a trainee. Then the battle dance started. This was not a sparring session anymore - the wounds that the warriors suffered for their mistakes would become lessons to be remembered.

Malcolm fought each assault off easily, careful not to damage his opponenets permanently - they were trainees, after all. The warrior who had performed most poorly during the pair sparring session was the last to move in to attack. Malcolm expected this; the man attacked viciously at first, but the fear in his eyes increased each time Malcolm parrried his blows. As the fight went on, the expression in the warrior's eyes turned from fear to panic, until he completely lost control of his movements. Fear seemed to have erased all that he'd learned and finally, he ended up on his knees in front of Malcolm, disarmed, defeated and helpless, Malcolm's blade pressed against his neck.

Merlyn knew what should… or would follow, if his predecessor was still in charge of the League.

"Master." Ashraf approached him after completing a satisfactory melee with his seven warriors. "This man has failed in every duel ever since he's been recruited. Today he has performed worse than ever."

Malcolm's assasin senses alerted him to the fact they were being watched. He threw a cursory glance towards the entrance and noticed the High Priesess hovering just outside the now open door, anticipation painted all over her face. He also noticed that many other League members had come with her to observe. A blatant violation of rules and protocol. He decided to ignore this for the moment.

"Yes, he has." He answered levelly. "He has come up short in almost every domain that a League of Assassins member is required to master." Malcolm strode to the centre of the room, his blade still unsheathed, his tone ice cold. "He should be executed." The silence that followed rang through the room louder than any scream ever would.

"But he won't be." Whispers of shock and surpirse filled the chamber.

The new Ra's Al Ghul lifted his hand to silence his minions.

Malcolm paced amongst his warriors before he continued, sword drawn.

"Each and every one of you has a reason for joining this organisation. Let me make one thing clear. As I told you from the beginning - the very first time I addressed you - once you decide to join the League, there is a code you must abide by." Now came the time for the difficult truth to be spelled out fully. "However, it is not the code my predecessor established. It is _my_ code. I, Al Sa-Her, now Ra's Al Ghul, stand before you today and proclaim two of the most important rules we shall operate under from now on. The first of those rules is trust." He let silence reign in the room for a few moments

"The second one, which has not been practiced much here, is-" he paused again so the next word resonated among the crowd with the full power of its meaning. "Forgiveness." He let that sink in as he paced and looked each of his warriors in the eye. "No matter what you have done before, no matter what you regret. Your past is gone, your future uncertain. But your new life begins here. _Now._ " He made a point to look at his assistant then, who nodded curtly.

"However, you must remember that disloyalty and disobedience shall never be tolerated." Malcolm finished in a steely voice.

He walked up to the defeated warrior again.

"Your name?" he asked sharply.

"Nur-Hadi," the man choked out.

Malcolm pondered the name for a few minutes. It meant 'Guiding Light'.

"You shall train with me alone, at dawn tomorrow. I see a lot of potential in you, but also fear. We shall banish that fear. Fear is the mind killer." He took the man's arm and helped him up.

"After your training with me, you shall also attend the usual practice session with the other warriors. You will work; you will work hard."

He turned to the rest of his trainees. "Let it be a lesson for all of you. Do not allow fear to control you. _Admit it._ _Face it._ This is what I demand of you." He walked among them, looking each one in the eye, his sword unsheathed. "Everybody has a fear. You stand here, all so smug because you did well in your duels and Nur-Hadi gave into his fear. But next time, it could be you. Think of it. Think of your fear. Then reveal it to me, so you can learn to control it, perhaps even banish it entirely. Otherwise, you will perish, because at some point, that fear shall betray you in battle or will be used against you by your enemies."

He approached one of the warriors. "Hakim. Tell me." The man bowed his head and remained silent. " _Tell me._ " Malcolm lowered his voice threateningly.

The warrior flinched, then answered, stuttering a little. "I- I fear for m-my wife and daughter... we were told that once we joined the League, we would have to leave our past behind forever. I fear that I will never see them again, that I will not be there to protect them when they need it. My son was killed when insurgents from the southern provinces attacked my village. I was unable to save my little boy, I was too weak. That is why I am here. I want to do everything I can to prevent such atrocities from happening anywhere in the world again, but... I would also like to keep my family safe. I want to become stronger, so that no one can ever hurt my family. But we are forbidden from ever seeing them ..."

Malcolm suppressed a sigh. His thoughts drifted to Tommy, to the way he had left him when he was just a child, for the same reason this man here had left his own family. The way he had failed so abominably in the task he had set for himself by causing Tommy's death and hurting his daughter worse than could be imagined...

He quickly shook these thoughts away. He could not afford to have an emotional meltdown in front of his warriors. He took a deeep, slow breath; when he spoke, his voice was steady and firm. "Those were the rules of the previous Ra's Al Ghul. But this is _my reign._ And I declare to all of you that from now on, the rules have changed. Yes, it is true. When you join the League, you leave your past behind. You take your oath here and you abide by it. However, you do not have to _abandon_ your loved ones. For their own safety it is better if you do not contact them at all, but you _can_ watch over them from a distance. It is a sacrifice you have to make. If it becomes necessary, you can always come to me to help you keep them safe."

Malcolm heard a wave of surprised whispers from among the League members gathered at the door with the High Priestess, but silenced them with just one look. He turned back to his recruits. " Today's training session is complete. Remember what I told you. Think about your fears. Be prepared to reaveal and face them. Now you are dismissed.

The trainees marched off in a line, but the Priestess stayed in the room. As Malcolm walked out, he gave her a look. "We shall speak later. Leave this chamber now or I will have you removed by force." He nodded to his warriors and the woman had no choice but to go with them.

XXXXXXX

Malcolm approached the helicopter just as Oliver was about to board it.

"Ra's Al Ghul," the boy addressed Merlyn when he saw him. Malcolm flinched. 'Ra's Al Ghul' was just a title he had had to assume to achieve his goals and he hated when people he cared about referred to him that way in private.

"I am Malcolm Merlyn, and however you hate both names, Oliver, I would ask you to call me by this one."

"I will call you by whichever name I decide, Ra's" Oliver retorted, his ever-present resentment of Merlyn darkening his gaze.

Malcolm paused in his steps, unwilling to have another fight with the person whom he thought of as a son.

"Oliver. I know I have committed many sins," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "I did not choose the path that ultimately led me to this title that both you and I hate so much. Just as I did not choose for Rebecca to die."

"We do not always get the luxury of choice. But you _did_ choose to become Ra's eventually, regardless of Rebecca," Oliver replied. "As well as the things you did after she died."

"There was no other choice! In order to save Thea, you and myself... And you are one to talk about choices!" Malcolm snarled, enraged by being called out like this. "Are you proud of _all_ of the ones you have made?"

"You mean, after you forced me into them?"

Malcolm was about to throw an angry response at the boy, but the chaos that erupted in his mind made him speechless. He remembered their previous confrontation in the practice hall; the lecture he'd given Oliver about everything one does being a choice. And yet, here he was, blatantly contradicting himself.

"I could say these exact words to Daniel Brickwell. That he forced me to become what I am ..." Malcolm suddenly turned away and bowed his head in defeat. "He took her from me. My Rebecca." Merlyn's voice was so quiet, almost a whisper. "Now you and I keep having the same fight over and over again. We are _both_ turning ourselves into the domino pieces I told you about when we spoke earlier. I am through with this." Malcolm turned back to face Oliver.

The Starling City Vigilante pondered his words for a moment. "I am as well," he admitted finally.

"Rebecca was gone, just like that, due to one man's cruelty, his selfish cruelty." Malcolm continued, his tone growing in intensity. "You heard what he said; you know what he is! A monster who murdered my wife, not just because he wanted to get into a gang, but because he _enjoyed_ it! And you talked me out of killing him! Now, for all I know, he is the _king_ of Iron Heights! After... After everything he has done. I cannot, I _will not_ suffer it. Will you?" He grabbed Oliver's forearm in an instinctive, desperate movement that surprised even himself. The painful awareness of his own hypocrisy hit him like a tidal wave. He demanded punishment for a ruthless killer while he himself was a mass-murderer who had escaped justice multiple times. And yet, he still longed for forgiveness from this boy that now stood before him, a boy he had hurt to the core. Was the Dark Archer any different than the Brick? Malcolm felt lost in the barrage of conflicing thoughts and emotions that assaulted him. He tried to suppress the tremor in his hand, but knew that Oliver had felt it before he managed to regain control.

Oliver shook his head, a glint of understanding flashing in his eyes. "I won't, Merlyn," he said earnestly. "He will pay. I swear on my life, I will make him pay."

Malcolm held the boy's gaze, somehow conveying anger, regret and faith all at the same time. "You do realize I want to be a part of this," he said quietly, letting go of Oliver's hand.

"I would not expect anything else from you, Al-Saher." The Vigilante turned to board the helicopter, but stopped when he heard Malcolm call after him.

"Oliver, thank you."

"Don't thank me, just keep up your end of our bargain. You know I will be watching." Having said that, he hopped inside the vehicle.

Malcolm looked on as it flew away, then turned and walked back to his fortress.

XXXXXXX

He made his way through the corridors to his chamber, ready to get some rest, but was intercepted by the League's High Priestess.

"Ra's Al Ghul, I need to speak to you as quickly as possible."

His first thought was to dismiss her, but something in her tone made him reconsider. "Follow me to the main hall, then," he said, not sparing another glance at her.

As they entered, he poured himself some water from the ancient carafe, then offered some to her and she accepted. "What is so urgent that it could not wait until tomorrrow?" he challenged her. He'd looked forward to his night with Rebecca after the day he'd had, but this woman had disturbed it. He did not know her well, but his instincts told him not to trust her.

"I have concerns," she began, her voice low. She circled the table and finally sat down, took her glass of water. "About the way things that have transpired here recently."

Malcolm sipped on his water, his face expressionless. "And what would those things be, if you would care to be more precise, _Anan_?"

The fact that Malcolm chose to call her by her birth name seemed to have rattled her and raised her temper. She put her glass back on the table with a bang. "Ever since you began your reign, you have violated all the traditions that had been in place for centuries! First, you release Nyssa, who was meant to become your bride. Then you let her go be with Sara Lance, released Sara as well - that abomination… This is all our laws have forbidden!"

Malcolm rose from his chair then and threw his glass of water against the wall with such force it left a visible mark. "You dare to call _love_ an abomination?!" He leaned over the table towards her, drawing his breath in deeply to regain control of himself.

"No, Master, I am sorry I brought this up. It was not my place."

"It was not." Malcolm said firmly. "Now tell me, what other charges do you want to bring against my rule? I am willing to listen, despite your former misdemeanor."

The priestess hesitated. "Well it is not in our tradition to give second chances to warriors such as Nur-Hadi, who has failed so many times."

"What else?" Malcolm spat, and the expression on his face made her hesitate, but eventually she spoke.

"Oliver Queen and his sister; allowing them to have the run of the place, having a training session with her."

Macolm lost his temper entirely then, With a snarl of fury, he walked up to her and grabbed her by the throat. "' _Oliver Queen and his sister?'_ You dare to mock me this way?! You very well know from the previous Ra's that Thea is my daughter! You were at her resurrection! You also know Oliver is like family to me. And yet you dare to-"

"I'm sorry, I was out of line" she managed to say.

"Damn right you were! You do not attack my daughter! You keep her away from all of this!" He squeezed her throat harder and harder, until she choked, then he eventually let go. She fell to the floor.

He waited as she slowly regained her breath and stood up.

Malcolm was still in a fit of rage; his fierceness was that of a tiger in battle. "And leave Oliver Queen out of it as well!"

"Because what? He is free to come and go as he pleases?" she choked out, massaging her throat.

Malcolm suddenly turned very calm. He strolled around her, his presence claiming the whole room.

"The rules, in case you have not noticed, High Priestess, have changed. As they do change, with each new Ra's' regin. The tradition is, each new Ra's brings in his rules. Now it is _my reign_. My rules. And you shall respect and obey them form now on, without question. Is that enough tradition for you? Or do I have to refresh your memory? Perhaps you need a lesson?"

She was flustered. "No, I do remember."

"Very well. This conversation is over. You are dismissed."

XXXXXXXX

Anan traversed the corridors of the fortress secretively, then made her way to one of the exits. There she met her true master, Damien Dahrk.

"You made sure Ra's does not suspect anything?"

She nodded.

"Are you certain?"

"I am."

"Then act as you have before. I will do my work in Star City."


End file.
